


Food, Family, and Friends with Benefits

by endingthemes



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:17:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endingthemes/pseuds/endingthemes
Summary: “Everyone,” Edie says, voice bursting with pride. “Erik’s here, and he’s brought his friend.” She takes Charles’ arm and pulls him forward, presenting him like a shiny object. “This is Charles.”Charles manages a weak wave and an even weaker, “Hello.”(In which Charles gets dragged along to his fuck buddy's parent's house to celebrate a Jewish holiday, and things get weird.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [professor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/professor/gifts).



> I had fun writing for you, professor :) I know I deviated from the prompt but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Charles eyes the house as they walk up the front path. Its pastel blue shutters give it a friendly look and the pots filled with purple flowers that sit on the porch are welcoming. Everything about the little suburban home should be putting him at ease, but it’s not.

Charles shoots a sideways glance at Erik who is wearing his stoic expression as usual. He looks cool and calm and Charles wants to grab him and shake him and tell him that this is a horrible idea and Charles should really go home --

But he can’t quite do it. Despite the trepidation stirring in his gut, he’s kind of curious. He’s only ever known Erik as a sex god who knows how to make Charles orgasm so hard it feels like his brain is shorting out.

Now he’s walking up the lovely stone path to Erik’s parents’ house, and still trying to figure out why he even asked “who’s that?” when Erik answered the phone after their sex marathon this afternoon. He’s not supposed to ask that question in the first place; he really doesn’t have a right to know who Erik is talking to anyway. Charles had been looking for some no-strings-attached sex, and they’d established that’s all it would be from the beginning. But the question had slipped out anyway, and he’d been holding his breath waiting to hear something like “my other fuck buddy” or “how is it any of your business” but Erik had just casually said, “It’s my mother.”

Charles climbs the steps to the porch somewhat mechanically, watching as Erik takes them two at a time.

“Erik,” Charles starts. “Maybe we should go.”

“We just got here,” Erik says.

“Yes, but this is insane. I can’t believe you actually brought me.”

Erik glances down at Charles. “You really want to leave?”

Charles pauses for a moment, unsure of why he isn’t nodding furiously but then the front door swings open. A woman in an apron greets them with a huge smile, her curly grey-peppered hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and her green eyes crinkling at the corners. “You two planning to freeze out here?”

“It’s 55 degrees,” Erik says in the same exasperated tone he uses with Charles way too often.

“You’ve got no meat on your bones. You could freeze to death in the Sahara,” she says without missing a beat. Her face softens. “My precious boy,” she says, pulling Erik’s head down to her rather insubstantial height to give him smacking kisses on each cheek. Charles watches as Erik’s face melts from its trademark indifference into a gentle expression he’s never seen before, something alien and, dare he think it, sweet…?

Before he can even fully appreciate the moment, Erik’s mother is grabbing Charles and pulling him into a surprisingly strong hug. “You must be Charles. I’m so glad you’re here. We’ve been hoping to meet one of Erik’s friends -- he has so few of them, you see--”

 _Precisely zero_ , Charles thinks wryly.

“The moment I heard your voice over the phone, I knew I had to invite you for Rosh Hashanah dinner. It would have been downright rude to do any less!”

“Mama,” Erik interrupts, and Charles blinks. _Mama?_ Erik calls his mother _Mama?_ “Let the guy breathe.”

She staunchly ignores Erik. “Please call me Edie. We’ve got plenty of food, so I’m glad you’re here. Come on inside and meet everyone.”

Charles nods dumbly because what else can he do?

The house is warm and inviting and a nice reprieve from the chill fall breeze. It smells of freshly baked bread and roasting meat and there’s tchotchkes on each available surface. Charles can hear chatter coming from the living room, and he mentally races over the list of attendees Erik had mentioned in the car. Erik’s father Jakob, of course. A couple named the Prydes with their teenage daughter Kitty. Erik’s younger sister Ruth who’s a freshman in college. Erik’s twin children Pietro and Wanda, though Charles already feels like he knows them from the sheer amount of pictures Erik has scattered throughout his apartment.

Charles’ stomach seems to be clambering up his throat as Edie leads them into the living room, and Erik gently bumps their shoulders together. A comforting gesture? Or Erik’s attempt to show dominance? Charles is never sure when it comes to him.

The moment they enter the comfy room complete with fireplace and plump couches and arm chairs, there’s a high-pitched yelp of “Daddy!” Wanda’s curls bounce as she barrels right towards Erik, jumping into his arms. He catches her easily, swinging her up and settling her on his hip.

“How’s my girl?” he asks. She starts talking so fast it’s basically babble, and Charles watches with a sense of wonder. Knowing about Erik’s kids is one thing, but seeing his fuck buddy as a father in real life is making him dizzy. Charles has spent four months being pounded into the mattress by Erik, having kinky sex in every position and in every place but for some reason, _this_ is a sight that makes him flush.

Edie claps, startling Charles and effectively taking command of the room. Erik gently sets Wanda down, and she peers up at Charles as if noticing him for the first time.

“Everyone,” Edie says, voice bursting with pride. “Erik’s here, and he’s brought his friend.” She takes Charles’ arm and pulls him forward, presenting him like a shiny object. “This is Charles.”

Charles manages a weak wave and an even weaker, “hello.”

There’s an exasperated sigh from a tall and lanky teenaged girl who can only be Ruth. “Mama, can you stop saying _friend_? We all know Erik’s gay.”

“We certainly do,” another woman says, her voice wry and amused. Erik hadn’t mentioned that she’d be here, but Charles recognizes her immediately, her dark skin and curly hair striking and gorgeous. Charles swallows hard. Normally he’d be hitting on a woman like this, but he knows exactly who she is and why that would be an idiotic thing to do. “Magda,” he greets before she can.

She flashes a smile at him and holds out a hand for a shake. He never thought he’d be shaking the hand of his fuck buddy’s ex-wife, but here he is. “So wonderful to meet you. Erik never lets us meet his boyfriends.”

“We’re not--” Charles starts, “We, uh…”

Edie pats him on the shoulder, making him jump. “No need to hide it here, dear. We’re an open and accepting family.”

“That’s nice, but we really--”

An arm snakes around Charles’ waist, effectively silencing him. “Yes,” Erik says, pulling Charles in close to his side. “This is Charles. My boyfriend.” His voice sounds strange and thick and Charles is sure no one’s going to buy it, but then Ruth lets out what can only be considered a squeal and she and Edie join hands, vibrating with excitement.

He suddenly finds himself surrounded by more people offering handshakes and introductions. The Prydes are obviously lovely people, and Theresa is so pregnant she looks ready to pop. Kitty is cute and energetic and tells Charles she’s going to have a baby brother soon.

“Isn’t that great, Uncle Erik?” she says, and Erik nods and ruffles her hair like this is totally normal. Charles opens his mouth but no words come out.

Ruth moves in as soon as she spots an opening. “I’m Erik’s sister Ruth.” She really does look like Erik, but a happy version instead of a grumpy one. “I can’t believe Erik finally found someone. He’s been so lonely for so long.” Erik glares down at Ruth as she talks, his arm still firmly wrapped around Charles’ waist.

“I haven’t been lonely,” Erik corrects.

“Fine,” Ruth says, lowering her voice, “You’ve been compensating for your emotional constipation by having meaningless sex with as many people as possible. Good to see that’s changed.”

She turns away before either Erik or Charles can answer, and then a hand is gruffly outstretched in Charles’ direction, and he has no choice but to take it, looking up to face a man with a strong jawline and piercing eyes. The grip is so firm his eyes water as the man says shortly, “Jakob.”

Erik’s dad. Charles momentarily thinks about how well this man fulfills all of his daddy kink fantasies before he squashes the thought soundly. “Good to meet you, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir,” he says, his voice low but not threatening. “Call me Jakob. We’re all family here.”

“Uh, yes, sure.”

Jakob nods firmly.

That’s the last of the introductions then, and even though they’ve been here less than twenty minutes, Charles is already exhausted.

“It’s great to meet all of you,” he says, pasting a smile on his face. Erik’s arm is still around his waist. He wiggles out of Erik’s grasp and turns his back on the room to shoot a murderous glare at him. “Erik, I need to go to the restroom. Would you kindly show me the way?”

Erik looks unperturbed and Charles hates him slightly for it. “Right this way.”

**

Charles pulls Erik into the bathroom and soundly shuts the door behind them. “What the fuck?” he hisses.

Erik’s lips twist slightly, the only sign of contrition. “Look, can you just play along?”

“Play along? Are you kidding me? Your entire family is out there -- including your ex-wife, thanks for mentioning her by the way -- and they’re celebrating our relationship, and we’re not even in one!”

Erik’s lips thin further. “I know.”

“Then let’s just tell them they misunderstood. Simple.” Charles turns for the door, but Erik stops him, a hand tight on his arm.

“Please,” he says in a soft voice Charles has never heard before. The only time Erik says please is when Charles is teasing him relentlessly, keeping him on the edge of coming.

He should say no. This is foolish. This is the stupidest thing ever. But even if Erik is a cold ice queen most of the time, it’s obvious that his family means the world to him. And would it really be so bad to pretend to be in a relationship with Erik for a night? Hell, would it really be so bad to be in a relationship with Erik?

Erik turns Charles around, making sure their eyes meet. “Do you really want to ruin my mama’s nice Rosh Hashanah dinner? Do you want them to spend all night disappointed?”

Charles bristles, his pity for Erik evaporating. “Are you trying to guilt trip me here?”

“Mama might cry,” Erik says solemnly.

Nevermind. Being in a relationship with Erik would be the worst. “Fine,” Charles says. “But you seriously owe me.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Erik says with a grin full of teeth. “You’re the best.”

“Quit testing me.” Charles throws open the door and stomps out.

**

Dinner is torture. Charles sits stiffly at the table, making faux pas after faux pas. He drinks the wine before the blessing and sits there awkwardly as everyone recites the lines in an easy, learned rhythm. He thinks he’s safe when that’s over but then they’re blessing something else -- the bread? -- and he tries valiantly to hold in a sneeze and fails, startling the table. The apples dipped in honey that follow seem easy enough, but a few drops drizzle down his chin and he has to hastily wipe the stickiness away. Erik is smirking at him the whole time, and Charles hates him a little, but it’s interesting to see Erik this way. He’s always made it clear that he’s proud of his Jewish heritage, but this is the first time Charles has actually seen him do something religious.

When they finally start eating, Charles hopes to avoid questions by keeping his mouth full. He scoops in brisket and squash soup and listens to the conversation around him without trying to participate.

“You’re being pretty disgusting,” Erik whispers to Charles, his breathe tickling Charles’ ear and his hand landing gently on Charles’ thigh. “Chew before you swallow.”

Charles turns a glare on Erik, but has to chew more brisket before he can retort quietly, “This is all your fault. You’re just a mama’s boy who can’t say no.”

Erik shrugs. “Guilty as charged.”

Charles jaw tightens and he’s about to snap back when he hears his name. It’s Edie, and Charles knows he’s going to be interrogated now as the entire table quiets down, even the kids.

“So,” she starts, a gleam in her eye, “how did you and Erik meet?”

“Erm,” Charles says. On Tinder but he can’t freaking say that.

“At school--” Charles says at the same time Erik says, “At a conference--”

Everyone blinks at them.

“A conference,” Charles amends quickly. “At my school. That I teach at. I am a teacher. Who teaches things.”

“Charles is brilliant,” Erik interrupts smoothly. “I watched him present on unconscious bias. It’s fascinating how bigots sometimes don’t even realize they’re bigots at all.”

Charles really did make that presentation, but no part of him remembers Erik being there, so what the hell? Also, did Erik just call him _brilliant_?

Erik’s hand on Charles’ thigh squeezes, prompting him. “Yes, uh, Erik came up to me after my talk and asked some great questions. He really caught my attention.” That’s kind of true -- Erik’s shameless shirtless picture on Tinder had certainly caught his attention.

“A chance meeting!” Edie says, all enthusiasm. The table is full of smiles.

Charles thinks this awkward line of questioning is over and lets out a small breath of relief right before Erik ruins everything by speaking up again. “Charles isn’t just brilliant. He loves to see people learn, and the kids love him so much there are always waitlists for his classes. He comes from a wealthy family, but you’d never know it. He thinks all people are deserving of equal treatment, and he always stands up for what’s right. He’s one of the best people I’ve ever met. Plus, he even eats my cooking.”

Charles turns to blink at Erik. Was that real or fake? Has to be all fake, right? There’s no way Erik thinks all of that about him. And Charles has certainly never eaten Erik’s cooking, so further confirmation that he’s just making stuff up. Thinking back, Erik had offered to cook for him just once. Charles had woken up groggy with his hair sticking out in all directions to see Erik leaning against the bedroom door in a low-slung pair of sweatpants. He’d asked Charles if he wanted eggs over easy just the way Charles liked and Charles had politely refused saying, “You don’t need to cook for me to bribe me into coming back. Your dick is enough.” Erik had never offered again.

Erik taps Charles on the thigh, startling him from his thoughts. All eyes are on him, expectant. “Uh, I think Erik is great too.” Charles hasn’t prepared a list of things he likes about Erik but for some reason they start coming out anyway. “He seems like he might be cold or aloof but he’s really passionate about a lot of things. He won’t let an argument go, but he only keeps pushing me because he knows I like the fight. He’s thoughtful, but he doesn’t like people to know it. And now I know he calls his mother Mama, so that’s made my day.”

“So you like my daddy?” Wanda asks eagerly. It’s so cute that Charles has to bite his lip as he nods.

“Yes, very much.”

Wanda’s smile is missing a tooth. “I like daddy too!”

“I hate daddy,” Pietro adds, his arms crossed.

“Pietro,” Magda says so automatically that there’s zero bite to it. “You can’t say things like that to your dad.”

“It’s fine, Magda,” Erik waves it off. “I didn’t like my dad when I was young either.”

“Yes,” Jakob says, the first time he’s spoken up in awhile. “Erik was always a brat. No surprise he brought another one into the world.”

Charles sputters, choking on his drink, but Edie just fondly rolls her eyes. Apparently this passes for acceptable banter in the Lehnsherr household.

“So how long have you two been together then?” Ruth asks, trying to steer the conversation back to the juicy gossip she so obviously wants.

“Four months,” Erik says.

“So you’re serious then?” she pushes.

Erik looks over at Charles. “Yeah, I definitely think so.” His hand on Charles’ thigh is warm, and his expression is soft and Charles realizes what a good actor Erik really is. It honestly makes him a little queasy.

“Right,” Charles adds, gaze still on Erik. “Definitely serious.”

**

The Prydes offer to help clean up before they leave but Edie shoos them out the door. Kitty hugs her uncle Erik tightly one last time, and then they wave from the porch, with extra enthusiasm aimed Charles’s way.

“Erik, you’re on dish duty,” Ruth says, tugging on Erik’s arm to drag him toward the kitchen. Charles follows with quick steps, not wanting to be left behind. He tries to help with the dishwashing, but apparently he screws even that up because there are separate sinks for separate dishes -- something about keeping kosher -- so he ends up on drying duty.

Ruth is a chatterbox, going on about a boy she’s pretty sure likes her best friend, and oh my god, if they’d just get together already her life would be so much easier. Erik nods in semi-bored older brother fashion, but Charles is pretty sure he’s actually listening.

Erik passes another plate Charles’ way, and he begins drying it carefully. The last thing he needs to do is break something from Edie’s nice china set.

Erik pauses his washing, wrinkling his nose and bringing his arm up to brush at it. Charles lets out a snort.

“What?” Erik says, a dab of soap bubbles right on the tip of his nose. When Charles just laughs, Erik’s eyes narrow. “What?”

“Soap.” Charles reaches up, smudging the soap off with a finger. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be so messy. It’s--”

“Do you guys need a room or something?” Ruth asks, “Because really? That was the most cliché romance movie moment I have ever seen.”

Charles drops his hand quickly to his side, immediately backing away, and Erik turns his head down to stare very hard at the dishes in the sink.

It’s only then that Charles realizes that Erik is _blushing._

“What is our guest doing in here?” Edie’s tone has a hard edge Charles hadn’t been sure she was capable of. “Did you actually put a guest to work, in my house?”

“Oh, I asked to help out--” Charles starts.

Edie clucks her tongue, but it’s clearly aimed at her children and not Charles. “Charles, dear, why don’t you go rest in the living room while we clean up.”

“Oh, no it’s really fine, I--”

“Guests don’t clean. Not in my house.”

Charles gently sets down the plate he was drying. “Yes, ma’am.” He shoots Erik a look as he leaves the kitchen only to see Erik give a small shrug in return.

Charles enters the living room to find Wanda and Pietro passed out the couch, and Magda sitting in a nearby arm chair, watching over them. There’s no Jakob in sight.

The urge to flee is strong because honestly Magda is one of the most intimidating people he’s ever met. A large part of that is obviously that Charles is sleeping with her ex-husband, but hey, this evening is already a shit show, and Charles is a big boy, so instead of running for the hills, he sits down in the armchair next to Magda.

There’s a long moment of silence.

“You’re not really dating,” Magda says. It’s not a question. It’s a statement.

Charles whips his head up to look at her. “What-- We--, uh,” She watches him sputter with cool amusement. Like he said, intimidating as hell.

He considers denying it, but what’s the point. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “No,” he says instead. “We’re not. Were we that obvious?”

“No, I doubt anyone else noticed. I was half convinced myself until I saw the way Erik was looking at you.”

“Yes, Erik’s favorite pastimes seem to include glaring at me and fucking me--” he slaps a hand over his mouth. He just said that to Erik’s _ex-wife_.

Magda just laughs. “It’s obvious you’re sleeping together. You’re the definition of Erik’s type. But no, I didn’t mean the glaring.”

“Then what? The lofty amusement at my failings?” he jokes weakly.

Magda readjusts her position in her chair so she can face Charles head on. “Like he’s looking at something he thinks he can never have.”

All of Charles’ witty retorts die.

“Erik and I haven’t been in love for years but I still know the way he looks when he’s fallen hard. That’s the way he looks at you.”

Charles’ heart is picking up speed, hitting a panicky rhythm. “I don’t think so.”

“Ah, I get it now. You want more, too.”

“Excuse me?” Charles feels a hot spark of indignance as blood rushes loudly through his ears. “I don’t know why you think you’re a mindreader or something. I’m perfectly content as we are, thank you very much.”

Magda raises her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry,” she says, not looking sorry at all. “I didn’t mean to butt in where I don’t belong. Erik is still family to me, and I just want him to be happy. I think you make him happy. He wouldn’t have brought you here otherwise.”

Charles hates this conversation. He suddenly hates this whole night with a passion. What the hell is he doing here with this family he’s not even a part of with a man who only thinks of him as a hot piece of ass? And why do Magda’s words suddenly have his eyes stinging?

“I think you’re wrong,” he says evenly. “You’re wrong.”

She finally goes quiet beside him, settling back into her chair, and they sit in tense silence. Charles’ mind refuses to quiet, though, and the room feels unbearably loud.

**

The goodbyes are awkward at best. Charles is done with this charade, but it’s too late to end it now, so he accepts warm hugs from everyone, even Magda whom Charles would probably adore under any other circumstance but can barely stomach the sight of right now.

Edie holds onto him the longest, and whispers softly to him, “My son has never been good with people. Don’t let him push you away. Stick with him; he’s worth it.”

Charles thinks he’s going to be sick.

**

The ride back is quiet and hesitant, and a complete contrast to the ride out, which had been full of banter and butterflies in Charles’ stomach. Now he’s just tired and confused and, if he’s being entirely honest -- sad.

He sneaks a sideways glance at Erik, whose face is so neutral it’s inscrutable. What is it that Magda could see so obviously that Charles can’t see no matter how hard he tries?

“That was,” Erik finally starts, breaking the tension, “That was really unfair of me. I’m sorry.”

An apology. Erik is so full of unexpected things today that Charles suspects he might have fallen into a parallel universe.

Charles crosses his arms over his chest. “At least your family was happy. If you actually ever thought ahead, though, you’d realize you’ve just made everything worse. When we stop this-- this whatever it is we’re doing, you’re going to have to tell them we broke up.” Charles' throat is tight. Of course he knows this relationship has an expiration date. He’s just never put it so bluntly into words.

Erik’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “I know.”

They drive along in silence, Charles leaning his forehead against the cool window.

Erik pulls the car over to the curb, and it’s only then that Charles realizes they’re outside of his apartment. He unbuckles his seatbelt slowly as Erik watches him. Magda’s words, and Erik’s soft smile, and Erik’s compliments, and Erik’s blushing face are all swirling around in his mind. It’s unfair. It’s unfair he’s seen this side of Erik now. It’s unfair that they’re fuck buddies instead of boyfriends. It’s unfair that they could have been more and they never will be.

“We should stop seeing each other,” Charles says.

Erik glances away, his eyes staring out the windshield. “Okay.”

Charles blinks hard to hold back the tears he hadn’t realized were even forming. “Okay.”

He climbs out of the car and shuts the door behind him, every movement impossibly difficult with his numb limbs. That’s it then, he thinks, as he slowly approaches his building. Just like that, it’s all over.

He’s reached the door to his lobby when he pauses, casting a glance back over his shoulder. Erik is still sitting there in his car, his profile highlighted in the streetlights, his shoulders slumped, and his eyes staring straightforward. He looks like he’s just heard some devastating news.

Suddenly Charles’ adrenaline is pumping, his hackles rising. What the hell does Erik think he’s doing? Sitting there looking all moody and morose when Charles is the one who’s earned the right to do that. It’s annoying. Charles spins on his heels, trudging right back to Erik’s car. Erik’s eyes are still staring off into the distance as Charles stomps up and knocks on the window. Erik startles, turning to look at Charles with eyes that are red rimmed enough that the color is obvious even in the low light.

“Roll it down,” Charles demands. Erik acquiesces immediately, his body tensing as if for a blow. “Why the hell are you sitting here moping? You didn’t even tell me not to go. I said let’s end it and you just said okay and then that’s that. What’s with this emo act?”

“Charles, I--”

“Did you know me?” Charles asks. “From the beginning. From that conference. Did you know me?”

Erik swallows. “Yes.”

“And you never thought to mention this to me?”

“I didn’t go up to you. I didn’t ask you any questions. I just watched and listened. You were…”

“Yes?” Charles prompts.

“Then I saw your picture on Tinder and I thought there was no way we’d match. But we did. And I was glad.”

“Unlock the door,” Charles says and Erik obeys immediately. Charles climbs into the car again, turning to face Erik. “You wanted to date me.”

“Yes,” Erik says. “But you said you were looking for something casual, so I went with it. Better than not getting a chance to be with you at all, I guess.”

That puts a quick stop to Charles’ rapid fire questions. His voice starts to come out in a softer tone. “Weren’t you a bit disappointed when you finally met the real thing? Got to know the actual me? People may think I’m hot but they’re disappointed when they realize I’m a handful.”

Erik shakes his head. “The more time we spent together, the more I wanted to date you for real. I like everything about you, even the irritating parts.”

“The eggs,” Charles says, the realization hitting him all at once. “You tried to make me breakfast. Because you wanted me to stay.”

Erik actually looks hurt. “You turned me down, so I never asked again.”

“And tonight,” Charles says, his mind whirling. “This was some kind of plan you came up with?”

“I knew my family would assume we were dating,” Erik admits, "so I had this idea. I thought if you had to pretend to be my boyfriend, you might actually want to be my boyfriend." His brow furrows. "Now that I say it out loud, it sounds a little stupid--”

“Damn right it sounds stupid,” Charles says.

Erik doesn’t have a reply for that.

“So fucking stupid,” Charles says. “Just insanely stupid--

“Yeah, I get it--”

“I can’t believe it worked.”

Erik’s head shoots up. “It worked?”

“I didn’t realize us being more was an option,” Charles says. “But I do want that. I want us to date for real.”

“You--”

Charles lets out a weird laugh. “Jesus Christ. For some reason I do,” he says more to himself than Erik. “Why else would I have followed you home to your parents’ house? Why else would I be so damn mad about all of this?”

“You--” Erik tries again, but Charles keeps talking right over him.

“I want to date you too. I actually really like you. I’ll even pretend that this stupid plan of yours never took place.”

That sweet smile that looked so alien on Erik’s face earlier? That’s the one he’s giving Charles now, and it actually makes Charles’ heart beat faster. “I’m not going to let you forget it. I’m pretty sure this means I’m some sort of strategic genius.”

Charles reaches out to tug on the collar of Erik’s shirt. “Oh just shut up.” And then they’re kissing, with the gear shift poking hard into Charles’ thigh and one of Erik’s arms awkwardly squashed between them and it’s so perfect that Charles never wants it to end.

They’ve kissed countless times, mostly downright filthy and deep, but this kiss is different. Like the way you kiss someone who means more to you than words can possibly convey. This might not be their first kiss, but Charles is sure this is the kiss he’ll always remember.

When Erik finally pulls back just a little, leaving their noses brushing, Charles is tempted to chase his lips to kiss him some more. He doesn’t though, because Erik seems to be savoring this little moment of intimacy their interactions have lacked until now.

“You should come inside with me,” Charles whispers into the small space between them. “I think you promised to make me eggs.”

Erik’s huff of laughter feels warm on Charles’ skin. “Yeah,” he says. “I’ll make as many eggs as you’d like.”

Charles has never looked forward to eggs more.


End file.
